Story 2: The emerald shack
by Wodan83
Summary: Igor Karkaroff is on the run but for how long?
1. Chapter 1: The howling in the wind

**Disclaimer: Know that I own nothing of the Wizarding world. All credits go to J.K. Rowling and her magical imagination.**

 **I thank her for so much inspiration and courage to write myself.**

 **Chapter 1: The howling in the wind.**

Rain poured down the heavens as the night fell in the county lands south of a small village called Wick.  
It had been raining for two weeks now and the skies did not betray any stopping soon.  
Along one of the many dirt roads there was an abandoned shack that belonged to one of the many farm companies around Wick.  
The ram shackled little barn creaked and moaned in the stormy wind.  
The man inside pushed a small piece of the dirty linen aside that he had put up in front of the window.  
Sure that had heard something he sat down on one of the chairs he had stolen from the nearby farm.  
Breathing heavily he reached for his bag of goodies and took out a sphere formed glass instrument.  
It did not do anything special but the man sat it on the table and watched it for a minute.

Suddenly he stood up and walked to the window again as he pushed aside the self-made curtains and got scared from the bewildered bearded man in the window.  
As thunder struck Igor Karkaroff knew it was his own reflection that had scared him. For almost a year now he had not shaven his face or even combed his head.  
He looked like a possessed, homeless man that had seen a ghost.

"Where are you, I know you are out there, aren't you?"  
The man spoke in an east European accent and walked from one side of the door to the other, as both sides had a window to it.  
"Would they have stopped looking for me?" He whimpered to himself as he sat back on the chair again. He knew he shouldn't have gone to London today.  
He just wanted to be back in the Magical World for a little bit. But when he saw Crabbe and Goyle in Diagonally he swore they had recognized him.  
They could not openly attack him, but they had pointed at him and then pointed to the sky. An old sign from his old friends that the marked man had to die.  
The reference that the Deatheater made by pointing to the sky would mean. "Put the Dark Mark above his head."  
This basically meant "Kill this person!" He had fled quickly back to his hideout and even though he knew they could not follow him unless they had grabbed him.  
For the first time in a year he had felt exposed. He would have to avoid known Magical places and stay out of sight from now on.

The uneasy feeling came to a rest only hours later, Igor had calmed his nerves with a black liquorish tasting drink and sat down on his bed.  
No point exhausting himself over what could have happened, when it had not. If his old friends wanted to kill him, they would have done so already.  
He knew the methods they used to find their enemies. More at ease Karkaroff fell asleep soon and had a sleepless dream for the first time in that year.

Woken by a loud thunderclap, Igor bolted upright in his bed and felt his heart race when he saw his own shadow painted against the opposite wall.

"Damn this cold British weather!" he cursed as he got up from his bed.  
He grabbed his wand and the bottle of vodka that stood on the table and sat back on his bed again.

"This is no way of living, this is punishment for being honest."  
His voice sounded scruff and dry before taking a long and much needed swallow of the warming liquid.  
The rain was again slamming against the roof and now thunder and lightning accompanied the sound of the stormy weather.

"Always this lousy weather. Must I endure so much only because I turned myself from the darkness? I thought being good would have his benefits."  
Igor said out loud looking at the ceiling as if he could see the clouds and beyond. The wind made its presents known by making every wood board creek.  
Every small crack or hole in the small shack made a whistling sound and Igor could not help but to think about the shrieking shack.  
The smile he got from remembering simpler times suddenly disappeared as he heard a soft howling in the wind.

"There can't be wolves around in these parts, unless…" Finishing his thought would make the matter a lot worse."  
Igor thought to himself, but he definitely had heard howling, wolves howling.  
The part of Britain he was in however did not house any wolf family, but being the wizard that he was there was another kind of wolf that could be living here.

A second louder howl made Igor jump up again and he raced to the window. Looking outside, he could only see the rain and the trees near his cottage.

"You are being paranoid old man." Igor said softly to himself.

"Just the wind playing with the trees, nothing more than that to it. You're being paranoid."  
He looked up into the sky and as the lightning illuminated the sky, Igor's heart skipped a beat.  
The clouds above the cottage had formed a skull, a grey skull pouring out a merciless downfall of water.

"Sweet heavens," Igor whispered to himself. "I'm doomed."


	2. Chapter 2: The price of Treason

**Disclaimer: Know that I own nothing of the Wizarding world. All credits go to J.K. Rowling and her magical imagination.**

 **I thank her for so much inspiration and courage to write myself.**

 **Chapter 2: The price for treason.**

"How did they find me?" Igor whimpered and jumped out of bed. "They did not side-apparate with me.  
He started his pacing between the windows again. Placing the sneakascope on the table again, Igor was not surprised to see it spinning with bright flashes of light.  
The shack was once again in a blue light as several flashes of lightning followed each other up in rapid speed.  
A loud, BOOM came together with the sound of thunder and the wooden door crashed to the floor.  
Trembling Igor held out his wand but soon the room was filled with a black smoke, he knew to be magical.

"Expeliarmus!" a rough voice came from the doorway.  
The wooden weapon that had protected and served Igor from his eleventh birthday was pulled out of his long and ice cold fingers.

"Please, don't hurt me!" Igor yelled out in fear. The smoke lifted as quickly as it had filled the room.  
Suddenly inside the shack standing in half a circle around him were five black robed figures.  
Masked and clad in their famous black robes, five Deatheaters were staring down silently on the cowering Igor Karkaroff.

"Well well, if it isn't our long lost brother." The same voice who had disarmed him spoke coldly.  
With a wave of his wand his mask disappeared to reveal Antonin Dolohov.

"On his knees and weeping like a little baby." The man to Antonin's right side said. His voice was even lower and had a deep growl to it.  
His mask was removed and Igor recognized Marcus Mulciber.

"I am begging you all for forgiveness my brothers." Igor pleaded and he fell to the ground grabbing Mulciber's foot to kiss it.  
A shot of pain ran through his face as Mulciber kicked him away shouting insults to Igor.

"How low you have sunken you dirty rat!" William Travers said softly as he unmasked himself to Karkaroff.  
"How deep we had to dig to find your wormy heart." He smiled as he pointed his wand on Igor.  
The last two silent Deatheaters came in and looked around curious about the shack.

"Do you know how long we have been looking for you Igor?" One of the two Deatheaters asked him as he pointed an illuminated wand around the shack.  
Igor looked up at him and wondered who was hiding behind this mask, although he had a feeling he already knew.

"I think you had some trouble?" Igor asked unsure. In a synchronized movement the last two Deatheaters waved their hands.  
They revealed themselves as Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange.

"Don't be ridiculous Igor." Rabastan said in a soft calm voice. "You just weren't important enough to take revenge on, until now."  
His brother was grinning wide and he got excited while pointing his wand at Karkaroff.

"The Dark Lord finally gave his blessing to murder you, you little filth!" Rodolphus Lestrange cackled insanely.  
He was always known for his sadism towards his victims.  
A running joke between the Deatheaters was that Rodolphus was born with the cruciatus curse on his wand.

"Please I beg you my brotherss, I was scared." Igor held up his arms as he stood up from the cold wooden floor.  
"I thought the Dark Lord had passed away and be honest Travers you haven't been in Azkaban either. You have denied to be in his service too."  
The mood shifted subtle from dangerous to life threatening as five wands suddenly pointed at Karkaroff's face.

"I have denied him yes, but I never betrayed my brothers to any authority." Travers said in a low whisper.

"I expected Rookwood to be here too, where is he?" Karkaroff asked he looked around.

"He has no desire to kill you. Rookwood is doing other services for the Dark Lord right now." Rabastan said softly.  
Igor felt he had gained a little of his former authority over these men, like he had before Voldemort's fall.

"So tell me, why did Lord Voldemort wait so long…" But before he could end his sentence he felt a stinging pain all over his body, as five voices yelled together.

"Difindo!" Under painful moaning, Karkaroff held out his hands and looked down to see cuts on his arms, legs and he was sure his chest.

"You will never speak his name again, you damn Traitor!" Rodolphus said in a high pitched voice.  
Karkaroff knew he never should have hoped for any survival chances. Knowing he had nothing to lose anymore he tried a different tactic.

"You know, I am glad you have found me. Now I can tell you how sorry I am in person." Igor said with a slimy smile as he stood up.  
"As you can see, I'm unarmed and I have no possible way to defend myself." He slowly walked up to Dolohov and looked around the small group of Deatheaters.  
"I beg you, from the depths of my heart, I beg you to listen to me."

Without giving it a second thought, Karkaroff swung his hand and punched Dolohov full in the face.  
The other Deatheaters raised their wands but didn't do anything. Afraid they would hit Dolohov they did not attack, as Karkaroff predicted.  
Not giving them a second chance he lunged himself on to Travers and let his hands fly quickly on his adversary.  
But of all the magic Igor was expecting he did not expect a strong hand grabbing his neck and pulling him back quickly.  
It was the broad shouldered Mulciber who picked up the bare knuckled fight.

"You know Igor, it is a bit barbaric, but sometimes so satisfying this Muggle way of fighting."  
The raucous voice of Mulciber said loudly as he punched Igor full in the face.  
"Damn that hurt!" He said laughing as he rubbed his hand.

Igor fell to the floor with a broken nose. Igor had felt the painful crack inside his nose and blood gushed out quickly.  
The other Deatheaters were getting excited as they started to kick hard and shout insults at Karkaroff.

"Stand clear!" an angry voice yelled above the cheery voices. Dolohov had regained his posture and his wand was shaking in anger.  
"I will kill you Igor, I hope you realized this." Igor sat back up slowly and nodded.

"Yes I figured that out, you idiot." He laughed in desperation.  
"That's why I tried to get my last punches at you guys." Karkaroff said and spat some blood on the floor.  
"You follow Voldemort so blindly that you do not dare to think for yourselves." The other Deatheaters took a step back and all pointed their wands at Karkaroff again.

"Well then, what are you cowards waiting for. The spell is easy and green!" But against his expectations they did not use the Avada Kedavra.  
Instead the five Deatheaters started to yell.

"Difindo!" and "Sectum Sempra!" in a chaotic order.

Igor felt how his skin and flesh was being torn apart. They did not give him a simple death, he had to suffer for his betrayal of his brothers.  
Igor had predicted it but he was thinking about the cruciatus curse. Cut after cut was made and after a while Karkaroff had stopped screaming in agony.  
The energy and will to live had left him.

After only ten minutes, what felt as an eternity to Igor, the screams felt silent.  
The world around him was vague and time was slowing down as far as he could see.  
He felt thick warm liquid flow slowly down his face and throat. His legs and arms felt numb and he could hear the rustling sound of the sea in his ears.  
Somewhere far in his mind he knew it was his own blood that he felt and heard but the idea was slow inside his mind.  
Suddenly and without warning he was hoisted up by his ankles and felt ropes binding his feet and hands bind together.  
The pain was excruciating but Igor had nothing left to scream with anymore.  
From the corner of his eye he saw one of the Deatheaters walk outside without closing the door.

"Morsmordre!" Travers roared with a primal pride in his voice, before a great green light explode in the air.  
Igor knew that the dark mark was placed above the shack and that he soon would be death.

A mirror was placed across the room, so that Igor was forced to see what they had done to him.  
Chunks of skin and meat had been sliced out of his body and in two places he could see his ribs.

Across his body they had spelled "TRAITOR" and "COWARD" in big calligraphic letters.  
His face was missing a nose an ear and his lower jaw.

"Sweet merciful death, take me into your wings! I beg you please let it be done!" Karkaroff screamed inside his head.

Then it was over, the pain had stopped and the rustling sound of Death's cloak became louder.  
Cheers of joy were the last thing Igor Karkaroff heard before the last breath had left his body.

Only two hours later, the Ministry of Magic received an urgent message.  
The dark mark had been spotted above a shack, just outside the northern town of Wick.  
It took the Aurors another two hours to confirm, that the badly mutilated corpse had belonged to Igor Karkaroff.  
The former Headmaster of the Durmstrang Academy of Magic who had suddenly disappeared over a year ago before the Tri-Wizard-Tournament had ended.  
The Daily Prophet had reported it as a mysterious murder.  
The Quibbler however, had called it a grudge being settled between two Deatheaters and not much of a loss.

In both cases however, it was said to be one of the most brutal murders ever in the Wizard community.

Second only, to the murder of Florean Fortescue.


End file.
